You Can Walk Under My Umbrella
by sandra70
Summary: Based on a prompt: modern AU - I forgot my umbrella in the poruing rain, and you offer to walk my home, but you suck at this, because I'm still getting wet. My first AU.
1. Chapter 1

_**Prompt: **__**"I forgot my umbrella and you offered to walk me home in the rain, and I thought this would be the beginning of a cute love story, but you're really shit at this - oh my God my shoulder is so wet, hold the damn thing properly wth man" au**__** (submitted by honeysticks on tumblr)**_

Her preferred Deli was in the neighborhood, practically just around the corner; but that could still be a long long way to walk if you were fully packed with two huge paper bags and it was raining cats and dogs, like it was now. Luckily, Emma hadn't forgotten her umbrella this time. But, as it turned out, it wasn't that easy opening it with one hand while trying to balance the two bags in her other hand. She started to curse under her breath, when a strong buffet of wind hit her from behind, ripped the half-opened umbrella from her hand and smashed it lethally against the post of a street lamp. She stumbled a little, and one of the grocery bags fell from her hand.

"Really?!" she hissed and crouched down on the pavement to collect the oranges, avocados and the packet with the taco shells. Obviously, today was not her day. At least the rain seemed to subside a little – it didn't fall on her blonde curls as heavy as before.

When she gathered her last belongings, she became aware of a pair of feet standing very close to her. She frowned and let her curious glance wander up along legs in tight black jeans, belonging to a man clad in a black leather jacket, holding an umbrella over her crouched figure, smiling down at her from a pair of disturbingly blue eyes and with an amused expression that infuriated her somehow. The rain was streaming over the stranger's face, soaking his almost black hair. "Need a hand, love?" he asked and indeed offered her one to help her up.

He had an unusual accent, European maybe, and a certain timbre to his voice that infuriated her even more. And really – _love_? The last time someone had called her that, it had been an old lady when she had held the door open for her.

Emma ignored the hand and rose to her feet as graciously as she could, having packed either arm with a grocery bag now. "Listen, bud," she snapped, "if that's supposed to be a clever pick-up line – it's not working."

The stranger obviously wasn't easily offended. "I was just trying to be a gentleman," he replied smoothly, still that amused twinkle in his eyes, "but I suppose that's overrated." She'd have expected him to turn away, but he didn't. He was still holding the umbrella over her head, stoically ignoring the rain washing over his face.

She rolled her eyes, more at herself. Someone was trying to be nice to her, and she poured all her bad mood over him. "I'm sorry," she backpedaled quickly, "it's just... I'm not used to..."

"I'm going to walk this way now," he interrupted her stutter in a calm voice and pointed in the direction where her apartment was. "If that's your way, too, I shall gladly offer you a space under my umbrella."

Emma wasn't the spontaneous type, and this stranger with his accent, that weird way of talking and his too blue eyes was exactly the type she usually steered clear of. For a second she contemplated to tell him that she had to go the opposite way, but then she replied – _spontaneously_: "Actually, it is. And thank you."

With a slight tilt of his head, he stepped a little to the side, in the middle of the pavement, and held the umbrella over his head, leaving space for her to slip under it. She felt a little silly and clumsy, but then she drew a deep breath and stepped under the protective umbrella. He grinned and murmured something she didn't really understand because in that moment, a van was driving by, but she could have sworn she'd heard him say "_that's a good girl."_

They started to walk along the street side by side in silence, and the more they walked, the more nervous she got. Obviously, the stranger had really nothing else in his mind than to be nice and offer his help, because he didn't even remotely try to hit on her, and that was a situation Emma hadn't yet had to handle. He wasn't even looking at her or trying to make stupid smalltalk; he was just walking, and weirdly enough, even though they were walking side by side it seemed like he was leading the way in a strangely chivalrous manner, steering around obstacles and puddles on the pavement. Curiously, she studied his profile: thick, expressive eyebrows, a classic nose and an impressively strong jawline, peppered by ginger stubble, did make him very attractive, she admitted to herself. And those stupid blue eyes. If she were the type to believe in that kind of stuff, this would be the stereotype of a romantic movie – the random encounter with the attractive stranger in an absurd situation that led to a sickeningly sweet love story and an even more sickeningly sweet happy ending. But she wasn't that type; stupid romantic movies were about as realistic as fairy tales.

_Actually, that's a shame_, she thought and frowned at herself. Really, what was wrong with her? She stole another glance at her knight in shiny leather. She knew she was pretty attractive herself, and he didn't even waste a glance on her? Something had to be wrong with him anyway. What an idiot.

Suddenly, she felt cold water running down the side of her throat and noticed that her right shoulder was soaked with rain. The umbrella wasn't big enough, and he wasn't really holding it over her anymore. She rooted to the spot and threw him a fiery glance when he stopped too, not understanding herself why she was suddenly angry.

He raised a questioning eyebrow. "What's wrong, love?" he asked.

"This isn't working," she snapped. "I'm getting _wet_."

Her eyes widened at the amusement dancing over his handsome features, and she blushed for no reason. For a dreadful moment, she expected him to answer with a slippery pun. "Well, my apologies for _that_," he replied innocently, but somehow she was sure that in another situation, he _would_ have answered with an innuendo. "Maybe you should contemplate letting me help with those bags, then you'd have your left arm free and could walk a little closer to me, so we'd both fit perfectly under the umbrella."

He offered his left hand, but she shoved the second grocery bag in her right arm too, securing it with her hip. "I'm perfectly fine, thanks," she said stubbornly and moved a little closer to him.

He pursed his full lips into a smirk and nodded his head once. "You're a tough lass," he commented, and Emma rolled her eyes, but continued to walk by his side. Her left forearm brushed against his right now, but still no word of conversation or anything else from him. Stupid, infuriating idiot.

She was almost relieved that, after a few more minutes, they'd reached the apartment house where she lived. She stopped, and he raised that eyebrow at her again, but said nothing. Suddenly, she felt embarrassed like a schoolgirl that had been walked home by her crush. _She_ was the stupid idiot, obviously. Clumsily, she motioned her head to the stairs leading up to the entrance. "I live here," she said and wanted to bite her tongue the moment the words were out. _Really?_ For all she knew, he could be a fucking psychopath, and she told him where she _lived_? And now? She cleared her throat. "Well, thank you again."

He nodded with a smile and tilted his head again like before, the gesture seeming strangely old-fashioned, like the hint of a bow, which was a ridiculous image. No one bowed nowadays. "Well, I'm glad that I could be of assistance, love," he replied, "even if you got a little... wet."

She threw him a sharp look, that little pause he'd made having caught her attention. Had he just thrown an innuendo her way, or was that merely her imagination? Well, she'd never find out; the stranger nodded at her one last time and then turned his back on her, to continue his path and walk out of her life.

Emma snorted at herself in disdain for that absurd little pang of disappointment she felt, and she turned to the door abruptly, fishing for her keys in the pocket of her jeans. _Stupid idiot._

"Oh, one thing," she heard him say and almost whirled around on her heel in surprise. He was still standing there, throwing a slight smile at her that was bright enough to cast away all the grey and rainy clouds. He scratched behind his ear. "If you're ever surprised by the rain again..."

She swallowed, suddenly nervous. "Yeah?"

He tilted his head and cocked his eyebrow. "I will find you."

And with that, he turned around and walked away. Emma's incredulous eyes followed him for a few moments before she finally unlocked her door. Her mood was better now than it had been all week, and she smiled to herself. It was absurd, yes – but somehow, she knew she hadn't seen the last of him.

* * *

_**A/N:**_

Based on the first prompt I received without having asked for it, so thanks for that, **_honeysticks_**! I have already had requests of a part 2 - and I will eventually do it, when I get the time among my other projects.


	2. Chapter 2

Three weeks had gone by since Emma Swan's ridiculously weird and clichéd encounter with that mysterious stranger in the rain. That mysterious, tall, dark stranger. That oddly chivalrous stranger with the melodious voice, the distinct accent and eyes of the blue of the _fucking_ forget-me-not.

She didn't even know why, but for the last three weeks, she'd been to that damn deli almost every day, at various times of the day, always half-expecting, half-_hoping_ she'd accidentally run into him again. _I will find you._ Nothing but big, pathetic, empty words, of course. What a stupid idiot... and she'd been foolish enough to actually believe there was more to that. Her mood had gradually deteriorated the more days had gone by. _Delusional_. That one time she had foolishly – and absolutely uncharacteristically – allowed herself to believe in something, of course she'd been proven wrong. She rolled her eyes at herself.

Today she wasn't in the mood for grocery shopping; her fridge was ridiculously stuffed anyway with tons of food she didn't even need. So, she visited her friend Ruby who worked as a waitress in a coffee shop across the street from said deli, hoping it would lift her mood; a chat with the sassy brunette usually did. But today, unfortunately, her pretty friend didn't even have much time for her. After placing a cup of cappuccino in front of her, Ruby started to pack a transport box with styrofoam cups and cake.

"What, are you leaving?" Emma asked grumpily.

"Special delivery," Ruby replied with a shrug.

"Great," Emma growled. "Nobody sticks around nowadays."

The waitress snorted a laugh. "Seriously, what's up with you, Ems?"

"Nothing's up with me." Emma stared into her cappuccino and stirred it vigorously.

Ruby raised her eyebrows. "Come on," she scolded. "You seem a little off lately, and today you're extra prickly. It's about a guy, right?"

Emma's eyes shot up. "What? No." She slammed down her teaspoon and downed half of her beverage in one gulp. "I don't give two figs about men. I don't need any of that bullshit in my life."

"Emma!" Ruby clapped her hands in delight. "It _is_ about a guy!"

"Shut up, Ruby," Emma snapped. "They're all idiots anyway."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on." She shook her head and closed the transport box. "There are still good men out there. Romantic types."

"Romantic types?" Emma snorted in disdain. "Yeah, right. I have yet to meet one." She finished her coffee and put the mug on the counter with a clattering sound. She didn't intend to stay if her friend was leaving.

"Well, if I didn't have this urgent delivery to make, I could show you one," Ruby replied and loaded herself with the transport box. The two women headed for the exit together, and Emma held the door open for her friend.

"What do you mean?" she asked with a frown while they stepped outside.

Ruby lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, although nobody could hear them; she'd always had a thing for being dramatic. "There's this guy..." she paused for effect, and Emma rolled her eyes. "He's been coming to the coffee shop every day for three weeks now, looking for his crush."

Emma raised a skeptical eyebrow. "How would you know?" They walked slowly, side by side, in the opposite direction from where Emma's apartment was; but she didn't feel like going home yet and decided to let her friend distract her a little more.

Ruby shrugged."He comes here every day at the same time and sits always at the same table for two hours," she told her. "Doesn't talk to anyone, doesn't read a book or play with his cell phone, just drinks his coffee and stares out of the window."

Emma nudged the brunette playfully. "He's probably there because of you."

Ruby shook her head fiercely. "Oh no, he's not. Believe me, I checked that," she added dryly. "I wish he was, because he's one smoking hot piece of ass. He's either waiting for or observing someone else."

Emma wrinkled her nose. "That's creepy!"

Ruby huffed at her friend's lack of romance. "No, it's not! I think it's totally..." Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks in mid-sentence and blurted out: "Well, _fuck_ me sideways!"

"Ruby, what the hell?!" Emma had almost bumped into her.

"Over there!" Ruby hissed and motioned her head across the street. "That's _him!_"

Emma frowned and followed her friend's indication cluelessly. What she saw caught her completely off guard. A man was crossing the street in a hazardous diagonal line and headed straight for the coffee shop they'd just left. He was clad in black jeans and a black leather jacket, his steps long and confident and with a certain hint of swagger that sent both a flash of anger and stupid excitement through her guts. She couldn't believe it, but there was no denying the obvious: it was the mysterious stranger. "_What?!_" she gasped.

"That's the guy I've been talking about!" Ruby confirmed, and Emma's jaw dropped.

"Well, fuck _me_ sideways..." she murmured.

Ruby chuckled, thinking her friend's reaction was due to the attractiveness of the coffee shop regular. "That's not very likely, unless you're the mysterious woman he's been pining for," she replied dryly and sighed. "What a waste. Anyway, I gotta go, Ems. See you." She turned around and hastened her pace.

Emma waved absentmindedly, already having forgotten her friend. Instead, she watched the stranger – yes, it was really him! – enter the coffee shop, and from her "safe corner" she could indeed see him sit down at a table directly at the window, just like Ruby had said, fixing his observing gaze on the deli across the street. Her thoughts were racing, stumbling one across the other when she recalled what her friend had just told her. He'd been coming to the coffee shop every day at the same time for the last three weeks and observed the deli for two hours. _Every day? _And she'd gone to the deli every day, just not at the same time, which is why he hadn't seen her. Or had he seen her and just been too creepy or too much of a coward to approach her? But then she remembered the way he'd behaved during their walk in the rain, and he had seemed anything but afraid. Which meant that he probably really hadn't seen her during those last three weeks; that obviously they'd always missed each other, probably just by a hair's breadth.

But this would also mean that – if she entered the deli now and he saw her... would he go after her? Emma felt little beads of perspiration blossoming on her palms, and she quickly rubbed them dry on her jeans. _There's only one way to find out._

She raised her chin. _This is it – take it or leave it._ She could turn the other way and just walk back home again. Or she could just... she chewed on her bottom lips, standing rooted to the spot, not knowing what to do.

_Come on, this is crazy. You know like nothing about this man._ On the other hand, she did know that he'd been looking for her every day since the day they'd met. _Which makes him a creep._ But then, a creep would have lurked around the house she lived in – which she'd been stupid enough to indicate. _This could be the craziest thing you've ever done. This could end up in a total mess. Or it could be..._

Before she even finished her thoughts, like by themselves, her feet were moving to cross the street, towards the deli... and _now_ he had to have spotted her if he was still looking out of the window... and she _knew_ he was. She could almost feel his eyes on her back. When she'd entered the deli, she leaned for a moment against the door and closed her eyes, letting out a nervous breath, asking herself what the actual _fuck_ she was doing. The sound of her own heartbeat was deafening in her ears.

The owner greeted her, and she smiled absentmindedly and did another useless spree of grocery shopping, took her extra time and crammed her paper bags extra full... and the closer she got to finishing her shopping, the more nervous she got. When she couldn't draw out her stay any longer, she paid her bill and, after saying her goodbye, turned to the door to leave the deli, her heart beating inappropriately fast in her throat. Probably she was being ridiculous; probably Ruby had been bullshitting her anyway, and this was all just a big coincidence, and she was nothing but a stupid, delusional, sexually frustrated woman grasping straws. Well, and if he was unwilling to take the risk and approach her, he deserved not getting a chance with her. _Asshole. _

Emma sighed, shook her head at herself and pushed the door open to step outside. Her eyes being fixed on the pavement before her, the first thing she saw was – again – a pair of feet, crossed at the ankles this time; she swallowed and her traitorous heart skipped a beat when she scanned upwards and found long, slim legs in tight black jeans... and that damn black leather jacket again. He was nonchalantly leaning against a lamp post, his arms crossed, the same amused smile playing around his luscious mouth she'd seen so many times in her dreams. When her eyes reached his, he pushed himself away from the lamp post with a smooth move as if he'd been waiting for her.

His smile brightened, and he asked: "Need a hand, love?"

* * *

_**A/N:**_

this is completely the fault of _**lenfaz**_; a part 2 was never planned. I'm not even sure there will be a part 3...


	3. Chapter 3

Emma raised her chin and parried the stranger's cocky smile. Instead of showing surprise or flutter she just replied in a deliberately bored voice:

"What took you so long?"

Her demeanor didn't fail to throw the handsome bastard off track a little. He blinked in confusion and frowned. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." She fixed him firmly. "How long have you been lurking here?"

He scratched behind his ear, and she noticed they were a little pointed, almost like the ears elves were usually portrayed with. If his gesture was a sign of nervousness, anyway, he covered it up quickly. "Actually, I was heading home, love," he replied smoothly. "I happen to live not very distant from here, just like you."

"Hmm." She nodded and pressed her lips together. "Listen, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret."

His momentary nervousness seemed to have subsided, and he pursed his distractingly beautiful mouth into an amused grin. "Please, do proceed."

"I'm pretty good at telling when someone's lying to me," Emma told him. "The thing is... you really do not live far from here... but you're not here by coincidence." She threw him a challenging look.

"Neither are you," he replied without hesitation, much to her surprise not denying her statement.

"Me?" she almost gasped, a little flabbergasted that in less than five seconds the tables had been turned. "I was just doing my grocery shopping," she replied quickly.

He cocked an ironic eyebrow. "Were you?" He motioned his hand in a fluent move towards her paper bags. "Then tell me, what did you purchase?"

That had caught her off track. She had literally no idea. "Ah... well... groceries?" she tried lamely.

He tilted his head in a satisfied nod that said _I knew it_. "You can't even tell. But I could see you grabbing items stuffing them into your bags without even looking what you took."

Now it was Emma's turn to produce a self-satisfied grin. "So you _were_ waiting for me?"

"Perhaps," he answered nonchalantly. "And _you_ were waiting to be found."

She didn't deny that, but didn't confirm it either. "You said you would find me... but then it isn't even raining." She shrugged. "Does that still count?"

As if on cue, big, heavy drops started to fall. Emma's jaw dropped open in surprise, and the stranger smirked and held up his left hand, palm turned upwards, catching a few raindrops as well as her attention; she'd always had a thing for beautiful hands on a man – and his hand was surely an eye-catcher. The palm not too broad and not too slender with distinct balls, the fingers long but not slim enough to look feminine, it conveyed the impression of physical strength with a hint of tenderness. "Well, the fates must be smiling upon you, lass," he commented in an amused voice, bringing her back from her reverie.

Emma was a little disappointed – although it was an amazing coincidence and almost looked like some kind of... _destiny?_ The tiny voice in the back of her head whispered. _A sign?_ She wasn't the one to believe in this kind of stuff, but she knew one thing: the start of this downpour – if it was going to be one – meant that her second encounter with the mysterious, but oh so attractive stranger would be as brief as their first one... and then? Usually, she wasn't the type of woman to be straight forward and take the first step, but, crazy as it might be, this time she was determined to do something that was maybe stupid and take a leap of faith. She was determined to get his phone number somehow before they'd part ways again – she just didn't know how. She surely didn't want to look desperate. _Fuck._

"Well, then out with your umbrella, Prince Charming," she teased a little nervously.

"Prince Charming?" he echoed indignantly and raised one of his expressive eyebrows.

"Yeah," she replied and shrugged. "Aren't you my knight in shining... leather?"

He tilted his head. "You should be a bit more on your guard, love. For all you know, I could be a... _scoundrel_." Briefly, she caught a glimpse of a devilish sparkle in his eyes that warmed the pit of her stomach in an inexplicable way.

She smiled about his choice of words, so vaguely outdated, yet so fresh and appealing; certainly not the common, boring pick-up routine she was used to hear from men. "I think I'm taking that risk," she declared. "So, what about that umbrella?"

Unexpectedly, he took a step closer, right into her personal space; something she normally detested, but somehow now, with him, with this total stranger, she didn't. "What do you say," he said slowly, his voice dropping a few nuances – and well, _fuck_, that made him even sexier, if that was possible – "instead of walking you and your groceries home, we could go for a coffee." Emma's stomach fluttered pleasantly – something she hadn't experienced in what felt like forever – and her heart leapt. He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, and for the first time she noticed that he was wearing a thumb ring. What could have looked pretty ridiculous on any other guy, somehow added to his mysteriously sexy appeal. "There's a coffee shop right over there."

She beamed and didn't even try to hide it. "I know the place. Yes, actually, I'd love that." Unceremoniously, she shoved one of her paper bags in his arm. "Let's go before we get all soaked."

He threw her a lopsided smile and moistened his lips in a very distracting way. "We surely wouldn't want _that_."

She turned around before he could see the traitorous blush on her cheeks, and they ran across the street, because the rain was getting heavier now. When they hastily entered the coffee shop, both a bit short of breath, Ruby saw Emma first and frowned.

"Emma? I thought you were already ho–" She interrupted herself when she saw the handsome stranger behind her friend, carrying a paper bag in his left arm and running his right hand through his wet hair, sending little droplets of rain in a spray everywhere. The brunette's jaw dropped, and she said almost solemnly: "Well, fu–"

"_Ruby!_" Emma interrupted sharply.

But her friend covered up cleverly. "_Funny_ to see you both again so soon... and together?" There was an unmistakable question in her voice.

"Life's full of surprises," her escort replied smoothly, and Ruby nodded with a grin.

"Obviously." She gestured to a table by the window. "Your usual table is free, if you like."

He just smiled at Emma and waved his hand nonchalantly. "Any table's fine, lass."

Emma blushed a little under his unfaltering gaze whereas her friend threw her a suggestive wink and ushered them to the indicated table where they sat down. Suddenly, she was nervous like a schoolgirl when she felt his intense blue scrutiny, and shifted a little uncomfortably on her seat.

"So... _Emma_." He let her name roll over his tongue like a sip of exquisite wine or whiskey or whatever beverage he preferred, and she felt the weirdest sensation in her stomach, again. "How do you like your coffee?"

She raised her chin and decided that offense was the best defense. Never make it too easy, no matter how goddamn attractive a man was – _especially_ not if he was the type who could charm off your panties with just a small smile and a few random words. "First of all – you know my name. You should tell me yours now, don't you think?" She leaned a little back and folded her arms in a slightly challenging way.

His eyebrows shot up. "Oh, of course! My sincere apologies!" He raised his hands, palms up. "Where are my manners? Killian Jones." He tilted his head again in that overly polite way that looked like an old-fashioned bow. "At your service." That was _so_ ridiculous. _Ridiculously hot._

"Emma Swan." She grinned. "Black. And hot."

He cocked an amused eyebrow. "Why, thank you, love."

"My coffee," she replied smoothly, slowly slipping into the rhythm of the banter and getting comfortable with it. "That's how I like it."

"Ah." He nodded, an appreciative smile, saying something like _well parried, lass_, creasing the skin around his eyes and curving his pretty perfect mouth. "The best way to have it." The eyebrows danced again, and then the pink tip of his tongue appeared and moistened his bottom lip before he added: "The _coffee_." Emma's mouth felt very dry all of a sudden. Really, what was that thing with his tongue?

Unnoticed by the two, Ruby had approached the table again and witnessed the last words of their exchange with a grin. "Do you need more time?" she asked and added innocently: "A room?"

"_Ruby!_" Emma hissed and blushed crimson red from her collarbones to her ears. He snorted a little laugh that – surprisingly enough – held a touch of embarrassment that caught her attention and scratched behind his ear, averting his eyes for a moment. _Adorable_, shot through Emma's mind. _So he's not all the smug bastard then. _For the fraction of a second she closed her eyes. _Oh God. Drop-dead sexy and adorable. I'm so screwed._

Ruby raised her hands with an apologetic smile. "I'll just bring you guys your usual."

Emma turned her eyes on the stranger – _Killian_, she mentally corrected herself – again and folded her hands on the table as she was a little unsure of what to do with them. "So... you're obviously a regular here, if you have your usual table and order?" she probed.

He tilted his head in an elegant shrug. "As I told you, I live not far from here." She pressed her lips together, a little disappointed that obviously he was intending to keep up the charade and play it cool. But then he smiled disarmingly, bare of any mockery this time, and leaned a little forward, lowering his voice, as if he was planning to let her in on a secret. "But I've become a regular here only after we'd met."

She couldn't believe that she actually held her breath a little. "What do you mean?" she inquired.

He pointed towards the deli across the street. "I was keeping an eye on that grocery shop," he told her straight forwardly, "and every time the door opened and someone came out... I was hoping it'd be you."

Emma swallowed, her mouth suddenly very dry. She hadn't really expected that much openness that soon. "Why?" she barely managed.

He looked into her eyes, and it felt like he was touching something deep inside her, something inexplicable that had nothing to do with the undeniable physical attraction she'd started to feel. "Because I couldn't – and didn't want to – imagine our first encounter being our last."

Ruby came and put their mugs in front of them without a word and without being noticed by them; not saying a word, she left the table again with a knowing smile playing around her red lips. Emma couldn't have taken her eyes off his even if she'd wanted to; it was like he had her hypnotized.

"If you were so fascinated," she finally said a little breathlessly, "why didn't you just ask for my phone number?"

Killian snorted that adorable, embarrassed little laugh again and averted his eyes for an instant to look down at his mug. "Well, that would have been a little inappropriate, don't you think?" he asked back and then raised his head again to fix his eyes on hers once more. "Would you have given it to me?"

Now it was Emma's turn to turn her eyes away for a moment. "I don't know," she replied honestly, "but..." she paused for a heartbeat before she looked at him again and went on, a sweet rosy blush creeping over her cheeks: "I might have come to shop for groceries a little more often than my fridge actually required." His eyes – _God, how gorgeous they were!_ – widened in pleased disbelief at her confession, and she added: "Obviously, never when you were here."

They just looked at each other for a few seconds in silence, before they shared their first heartfelt laugh... and even if there was a little embarrassment in it, it still felt good.

The next four hours seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Their first order of coffee went cold with them barely touching their mugs, and at some point Ruby quietly took them away and brought new ones. Later, when it was dinner time, Ruby put a plate with sandwiches and cake on the table, and Emma and Killian shared their first meal along with big and small, random stories of their lives. She talked passionately about her social work with juvenile delinquents, and he told her he'd moved to Boston only a few months ago and was running an antique book shop together with a friend. It turned out that they had both been alone for a long time now, for various reasons.

Emma could have stayed there to talk to Killian forever... just talk, listen to his voice with that enticing accent, watch his expressive hands talking along with his luscious mouth and get lost in his gorgeous blue eyes. She didn't even notice when Ruby's shift ended and her friend left. Somewhere along the way, Killian switched to call her by her last name which he found obviously appealing; with her flush deepening a little, she accepted it. Secretly, she admitted to herself that after the second mug of coffee she was hopelessly smitten with this man who didn't seem much of a stranger to her anymore; something that had never happened to her before.

But at about 9 pm – she was almost shocked how time had flown by – Emma interrupted the flow of their talk with clear regret in her voice, hoping he wouldn't take it the wrong way: "Killian, I... I'm afraid I have to go now. I have a really exhausting day ahead of me tomorrow."

He reacted like the gentleman he obviously was. "Then we should absolutely get you home, love," he replied immediately and waved for the bill. "My apologies if I held you up too long."

Emma shook her head hastily. " Oh no, I didn't even notice how much time went by." She bit her lip as soon as the words were out, not wanting to give away too much – but then, wasn't it already too late for that caution?

Killian scratched behind his ear. "Tell me, Swan... would it be very malapert if I asked for your phone number now?" he finally said.

She smiled almost shyly and averted her eyes, and she didn't even know why she reacted like that – it wasn't like she'd never been asked for her number by a guy, so what was so goddamn special about this? "I thought you'd never ask..." she murmured and, without looking at him, she grabbed a pen Ruby had left on the table and a paper napkin and scribbled her number on it; she slid it across the table, and when he reached out to take it their fingertips brushed against each other for a second. She looked up and saw that he was observing her with a secret smile.

"I'll text you as soon as I get home, then you'll have mine, too," he promised, and she pressed her lips together and smiled back.

Shortly after, they left the coffee shop and slowly strolled in the direction where her apartment was, either of them carrying one of her grocery-stuffed paper bags in their right arm. After a few steps, though, Killian changed it into his left arm, so that his right hand was now free. As they were walking, his right and her left hand touched accidentally, and at some point she felt his ringed thumb almost casually brush down the back of her hand and then across her palm. Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn't withdraw her hand; instead, she opened it and spread her fingers like wings, and a moment later she felt his warm palm press softly against hers and his long fingers slowly, almost tentatively slide between hers. She closed her fingers firmly around his, and they walked the rest of the way holding hands like stupid teenagers, their fingers laced.

They didn't look at each other, didn't even talk anymore, but it was a very comfortable, easy silence. When they reached the house where Emma lived, he climbed the steps with her and waited until she'd unlocked the door; for a second it was on the tip of her tongue to invite him for a coffee, but that would have been ridiculous as they'd been drinking coffee the whole evening, and she really had a rough day ahead and needed her sleep. Besides, somehow she knew that she didn't need to rush things – this was not _take it or leave it_ anymore. He had her number, and she was sure he was going to use it.

Killian handed her over the second paper bag and leaned a little forward, and automatically she closed her eyes and lifted her face to him; although it shot through her mind that it might be a bit early for a goodbye kiss, _but what the hell, this whole thing is wonderfully crazy anyway, and I'll just go with the flow._ But instead of having his lips claim her mouth, she just felt the slightest brush against her forehead... her skin tingled under his touch, and she couldn't help but smile in delight. That bastard had actually _kissed her on the forehead_, and she'd be _damned_ if that wasn't the sweetest and, oddly, also the fucking hottest thing she'd ever experienced on a first date, and this wasn't even a date, it was a _pre_-date, and she was already a hopeless goner and about to fall hook, line and sinker.

Emma couldn't believe that she felt a deliciously pulling ache between her legs – but also in her chest, and that was simply breathtaking and beyond everything she'd ever experienced. She opened her eyes again, and he smiled, raised his right hand to her hair and tucked a lock behind her ear, his ringed thumb brushing over her earlobe. A secret little shiver trickled down her spine.

"Good night, Swan," he murmured, his low, husky voice like a caress. "Rest well."

She smiled back like an idiot. "Good night, Killian."

He descended the stairs but then turned around again, standing rooted to the spot, looking at her, waiting – and she understood: he would wait until he saw her get in safely, and she remembered what he'd said to her when they'd first met:_ I was just trying to be a gentleman._ So, even though she found it hard to leave his presence, she finally entered the building and let the door close behind her. She was still grinning like an idiot when she arrived upstairs in her apartment. The moment she put down her groceries on the kitchen counter, her phone already vibrated in the back pocket of her jeans. She snatched it out, and her heart beat faster when she saw a message from an unknown number.

_"Sleep tight and face tomorrow with a smile. Don't reply, or else we'll end up texting until after midnight, and you need your sleep. K."_

She smiled, both at his self-confidence and his thoughtfulness, but was stubborn enough to type an answer anyway – only after saving his number, of course:

_"We'll talk tomorrow then"_

She contemplated for a moment whether to add a full stop or a question mark to her text, then decided to leave it like it was and hit "send".

Not even ten seconds later her cell phone vibrated again. Emma put her hand over her mouth and shook her head, stupidly giggling when she read the reply:

_"As you wish."_

* * *

_**A/N:**_

I'm planning to leave it here; this was going to be a one-shot anyway. I think we're leaving them at a nice point. But fear not, more is to come soon.


End file.
